The Nymph's Curse: The Collection

by Danica Winters

  Watching his son ride his first bike had been a great moment.

  What has it been? Ten years? Kaden must not be much of a kid anymore.

  Even if Beau didn’t get to see him much, it was still a comfort to think that he had a boy running around. Especially a boy who loved to cause his mother a little bit of hell — Lynda deserved every second of his orneriness.

  When Beau had emailed Lynda about the possibility of bringing Kaden to Crete, Lynda had seemed to consider it, but she had decided against it. Kaden didn’t know him, and a summer in another country would have been a disaster. On the other hand, it would’ve been fun showing Kaden the site and taking him to Heraklion, where there was a fantastic museum.

  Kaden might’ve loved Crete, he could have taken part in the dig, helped his old man. Not that he was old; nah, thirty-four was only slightly worn. There was plenty of life left in him.

  Closing his email, Beau opened up his site files. There were so many loose ends, but with a little luck, they would find what he was looking for, he was sure of it. Then the National Science Foundation would get off his back. All he needed was something to prove his theory. Something tangible and the NSF would be eating out of his hands.

  Next to his computer, the newspaper sat partially unfolded. There was a picture of the Cretan riots, where the unemployed picketed around a building. He scanned to the next page. He couldn’t help but snicker at the headline. It said it all, “Archeologist Searches for Answers.” They didn’t know how right they were. Questions were easy to come by, but answers … they never seemed to come.

  Beau took a sip of the beer sitting next to the paper and sat it on top of the headline. A drip fell from the bottle and splashed against the paper, blurring the ink.

  The NSF was never going to give him the grant for next year if he didn’t get his crap together.

  A knock broke the silence.

  Who would be at his room at this hour? Maybe one of his crew members? God only knew what trouble they had caused. Last week, the police had been called for a broken window. The offending student had to pay for the window to be replaced, but at least Beau had managed to get the charges dropped.

  “Who’s there?” Beau grumbled as he stood up and grabbed his boot.

  No answer.

  Goddamn college students.

  The person knocked again.

  “Hold your horses. I’m coming. I’m coming.” Beau’s ankle cracked as he slipped his boot back on.

  Wiping his face, he shook out his hands and then reached for the doorknob.

  The person banged again. Geezus, what could be so goddamn important?

  Opening the door, his jaw dropped.

  A black-haired teenager looked up at Beau and pulled his orange backpack a little higher on his shoulder.

  What the hell? Kaden?

  “Hey kid … buddy,” Beau stuttered, trying to cover his shock. “What’re you doing here?”

  Leaning out the door, Beau looked out into the hallway. Except for the two of them, the hall was empty.

  Beau grabbed Kaden’s shoulders and led him inside. “Where’s your Mom?”

  “She’s probably at the airport by now,” Kaden said, with an unemotional shrug. “She brought me here and then when we were about to come inside, she disappeared. She was in a big hurry to get on her honeymoon.”

  “Honeymoon?”

  “Yeah, Beau. I guess you didn’t get the email. She got married a couple days ago.”

  Since when did his son call him “Beau?” He looked over at the boy he had only known from school pictures and five-minute phone calls for the last ten years. The pictures of a smiling, polo shirt-wearing young kid didn’t match the pierced, black-haired, hoodie-wearing teen that stood in front of him. How had Lynda allowed this to happen?

  “Did she say when she would be gracing us with her presence?”

  “Hey, old man, I just followed her here. We didn’t talk a whole lot.”

  Old man? Geezus, this situation was worse than he had thought.

  The door clicked shut behind them, and Beau’s gaze wandered to the beer on the desk. Trying to be subtle, he walked over and grabbed the bottle and stuffed it into the back of his pants. He wasn’t a great dad, but even he knew beer and kids didn’t mix.

  “You have another one, Beau?”

  Beau grumbled, unsure of how to respond.

  Kaden had to be trying to irritate him. No wonder Lynda dropped his ass off. When is she coming back?

  Then Beau remembered the email. Maybe it hadn’t been for child support, but why hadn’t Lynda called? A man needed a little warning that a juvenile delinquent was going to appear on his doorstep.

  Kaden walked to the bed, dropped his backpack to the floor and flopped down. “Is this it? This is where I’m gonna be living? I thought you were some famous scientist or something. This place is a shit-hole.”

  Living? Huh.

  “Don’t you think you need to watch your mouth?”

  Kaden’s eyebrows flipped up in mock surprise. “You think I give a shit about what you think, old man? Did you forget that I haven’t seen you for ten years? You’re the last person who is going to tell me how I can and can’t talk.”

  Great … so this is how it’s going to be.

  His son didn’t have a clue about the history between him and Lynda, but it hadn’t been Beau’s fault that he couldn’t see Kaden. But Kaden wouldn’t understand. He was too angry, too young.

  “Look kid, we can get along or we can call your mother and get her to come back here. I think it’s great you’re gonna … live here … but there’s got to be some ground rules.”

  “Go ahead and call her.” Kaden pulled his MP3 player out of his bag and shoved in his ear buds. “She won’t answer. I already tried.”

  Lynda would never change. It was and had always been the selfish path of least resistance with that woman. And again, Kaden was the one paying the price.

  • • •

  Governor Kakos’ office door was closed, but the sound of giggles penetrated into the waiting room where Ariadne stood. Without knocking, she pushed open the door to his office.

  The blonde secretary leaned over the governor’s desk, her breasts inches away from Stavros’ tan face, while her fishtail skirt inched closer and closer to showing the world her well-known secret.

  Ariadne stepped into the lust-scented room and clicked the door shut. The woman stood up and straightened her skirt, causing her breasts to press hard against the buttons of her jacket.

  Ariadne could pretend to be upset or jealous, but it was too much work. Stavros was Stavros; if he wanted to screw the whole island, he would.

  “Hello, Ariadne,” the woman said, patting her hair.

  “Bunny,” Ariadne responded with a slightly annoyed nod. “Stavros, you and I need to talk.”

  Stavros’ gaze flickered to Bunny, and a tiny spark of guilt played on his face. If Ariadne hadn’t known him for years, she wouldn’t have noticed the subtle way his eyebrows trembled, or the way he licked his lips when he had done something wrong. The man hated uncomfortable situations, but like a true politician, he tried to brush off his guilt by acting apathetic.

  Stavros stood up from his desk and buttoned his gray suit jacket over his flat stomach. He pulled his sleeves down and walked to the door with a smug grin. Opening the door, he motioned for Bunny to leave.

  Walking out, Bunny looked over her shoulder and directed a sultry smile back at him.

  Ariadne rolled her eyes. Really? It isn’t like Bunny needs to broadcast their affair.

  Stavros turned from the door and smiled. “Aria, I’m glad you stopped by.”

  Of course he wouldn’t say anything about what just happened.

  “Hi, Stavros.”

  He l
ooked Ariadne up and down with his brilliant green eyes. “You look exquisite today.”

  Without waiting for her to respond, he walked across the room to her. He smiled and brushed his thumb over her cheek, then leaned in for a kiss. She let her lips touch his, but she felt nothing, just a stagnant familiarity.

  Forcing a smile, Ariadne walked away and sat down in the leather guest chair. “Well, Stav, I need a little favor.”

  Stavros walked to the small mirrored tray that sat in the corner of the room. He lifted up a crystal decanter and poured himself a drink. Taking a sip, he turned back and walked to her side. He put his hand on her shoulder and gulped the clear liquor. “Like?”

  Reaching up, she put her hands on his. “We have a bit of a problem. An American archeologist is too close to the Labyrinth. We need to shut him down before he finds anything inconvenient.”

  “Hmmpf.” Stavros pulled his hand from her shoulder.

  He walked over to the other side of the desk and sat down. His glass clinked as he plopped it on the wood of his desk.

  He wasn’t going to go along with this, but she needed to try.

  “First the protests and now this. How much is this problem we are having going to cost me?”

  “It’s not a money thing. I just need you to put a stop on the project.”

  Stavros’ manicured brows rose. “Which one?”

  “There’s an archeologist, Dr. Beau Morris, working in Gournai. I went there to stop him last night, but I think this is beyond my … ability.”

  Killing was best left to the wicked.

  “Oh, come now,” Stavros said, his eyes straying down to Ariadne’s breasts. “You have ample abilities.”

  Of course Stavros would think it had to do with her ability to seduce. He would think Ariadne would turn to sex to handle every problem. “So you are saying you want me to use my abilities?”

  “Hmm … ” He smiled. “It is nice. This thing we have. Hate to change up a good thing.”

  He took a long drink. Leaning in, she let her cleavage spill over to sweeten the deal. She took the glass from his fingers, took a drink, and slid it back toward him.

  “Look Stav, we both know what he will find if he keeps digging. You need to stop the work.”

  He sat the glass down on a little round coaster. “Aria, have you talked to Kat about this?”

  “Kat thinks it’s best. She was the one who sent me here. We don’t want anyone snooping around the group right now.” Her heart leapt into her throat as she thought about Kat. If Kat found out she had resorted to using Stavros to handle the problem, there would be hell to pay. “We can’t risk exposing ourselves or the magic of the Labyrinth. What happens if someone figures out you have an island filled with nymphs?”

  “One thing is for sure, it would increase tourism. The money would come piling in.” Stavros’ eyes gleamed with greed.

  “Yes, and you would risk yourself and everyone different just to make money. You know how humans react to things they don’t understand. Besides, there are better ways to draw people to the island, less dangerous ways.”

  “Like what? The economy is struggling. We need something big, shake things up a bit. Get our economy running strong again. Think about it. We could draw millions with just the headline, ‘Mythological Seductresses Exposed,’ or even better, ‘Labyrinth Found Filled with Priceless Treasure.’” Stavros laughed at his sick joke.

  “You know we can’t do that, Stavros. We can’t let Dr. Morris find the Labyrinth.”

  “Just because he finds the Labyrinth doesn’t mean he will expose nymphs. Just — ”

  “No,” Ariadne said, cutting him off. “If Epione’s crystal staff is found, that’s worse than nymphs being exposed. At least we would stand a chance. We could disappear. But if you give the power of the staff to humans, you would start something none of us could hide from.”

  Stavros shook his head. “You’re right. I’m just throwing ideas around here.”

  “Tell me you will shut down the site.”

  He took a long swig from his glass. “I can’t shut it down without a reason, Aria.”

  She smiled wickedly. “The reason will be exposed soon enough. I’ve already made sure.”

  Chapter Three

  A black-haired teen coughed into his elbow as he sprawled across one of the museum’s observation benches. The sound echoed through the empty exhibition space.

  Ariadne pulled down her sleeves as she walked up to the young man. With an acknowledging nod, she sat down. The teen pulled his hood off and looked at her with curious brown eyes. “Hey.”

  She smiled. “Hello. What’re you doing?”

  He pulled his arms more tightly across his chest. “Nothing,” the teen said in an American accent.

  Pain radiated from him. His loneliness and anger were palpable. “How do you like the museum?”

  “Fine.”

  In front of them sat a rock crystal rhyton. The pitcher was one of the most beautiful things in the museum, yet the boy didn’t seem to notice. “Did you see the double-headed axe when you came in?” Ariadne asked, trying to force him into a conversation.

  The boy shrugged.

  “What’s your name?” Ariadne tried again.

  “Kaden.”

  “Well, Kaden, my name is Ariadne Papadakis. I’m the curator for this museum. And I never want to see someone not enjoying themselves in such a magical place.”

  “I’m okay.”

  She smiled at his obvious lie. “How long have you been in Crete?”

  “A couple days.”

  “Is this your first trip?”

  Kaden nodded.

  She looked around. The museum was quiet today, as it had been for the entire summer. “You’re lucky you get this place all to yourself today.”

  He looked around with a bored expression. “Yep.”

  She loved the museum, but she felt for the lone teenager who was stuck in a place he didn’t want to be. “You wanna see something cool?”

  The boy’s eyebrows rose. “Like?”

  “This place is filled with secrets, some for visitors and some just for staff. If you would be interested I could show you one of the secret rooms.” Ariadne tried to bait his curiosity.

  The teen looked around the room. “Sure. Let me just tell my dad, okay?”

  Kaden stood up and as he did, a brunette man with a V-shaped torso walked into the room from the hallway. Ariadne’s jaw dropped.

  What is Beau Morris doing in the museum?

  Beau looked her up and down with his alluring milk chocolate-colored eyes. A smile crept over his face. “Hello, Miss … ” he said, gazing down at her chest. He pointed at her nametag. “Uh … Ariadne?”

  She nodded, trying to hide her shock at seeing the archeologist again. His face was clean-shaven and his hair less disheveled than a few nights before. He had been handsome before, but now he was almost irresistible. No wonder she hadn’t been able to kill him.

  Beau walked closer to them and stopped next to Kaden. “Thanks for watching my kid.” Beau reached up and put his arm over the boy’s shoulders.

  Kaden looked uncomfortable as he wiggled out from beneath the man’s touch. “She was going to show me the most secret room in the museum.”

  Oh, not the most secret room. There is no way they could see the real treasure that sat beneath them.

  Ariadne’s cheeks flushed. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to notice.

  “Do you mind if I tag along?” Beau’s eyes lit up.

  From the way his voice vibrated with excitement it surprised her that he hadn’t drooled at the prospect.

  Ariadne looked at Kaden and then back at Beau. There was a striking resemblance between the two men. Except for the dyed black hair, Kaden was just a smaller, les
s eager version of his father.

  The best thing she could’ve done was to say no, but seeing the way Beau looked so hopeful, she didn’t have the heart to refuse him. Besides, there would be nothing beyond a quick trip to the storeroom.

  Ariadne tried to smile. It was nice to have someone that truly appreciated history. So often the museum was filled with vacationers who came simply to point and laugh at the bare-breasted sculptures and the murals of the bull leapers, but why did the person who finally cared have to be the archeologist she had sworn to stop?

  “Let’s go.” Ariadne pointed to the door to their right.

  Beau ran his fingers over his sexy, disheveled brown hair and his hand came to rest on his tanned neck. “You sure? I mean I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

  She looked at him with a sideways glance. Kat had made him sound like he was a vicious predator, but the man that stood before her seemed far from the type. Instead he seemed humble and almost a bit beaten down.

  “You’re fine. I run the museum.” She walked to the side door and led them to the back store room.

  “It must be nice not having to answer to anyone,” Beau said in a tired voice.

  Ariadne smirked. He doesn’t know anything about me.

  The temperature-controlled room was muted by the roar of the industrial fan. In the center of the room sat a large lab table and on top, the ceramic statue of her goddess, Epione, stood bare-chested, with a sacral knot at the center of her chest. She wore a floor-length skirt covered with a short apron and snakes wrapped around her elegant limbs as they extended toward the heavens.

  “This is the Minoan snake goddess. Science doesn’t know much about her, but I have to admit that she is my favorite piece. There are so many stories that can be assumed by her appearance.” Ariadne looked over at Kaden, who stared at the figure. “Kaden, what do you think?”

  Kaden stood silently for a moment and then looked up at her. “This’s your favorite?”

  Ariadne nodded.

  “Why?” he asked, confusion in his voice. “I mean, why would you pick this old dirty woman? Here you got gold and silver … you know, priceless shit.”